


Bonds That Don't Break

by momothespicy (momothesweet)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, Drug Dealing, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek is kind of a gangster/mob guy, Reunions, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momothesweet/pseuds/momothespicy
Summary: Yuri becomes a ballet instructor after an injury prevents him from figure skating professionally. After another night of classes, he runs into an old friend with a beautiful scent...and a secret.





	Bonds That Don't Break

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for [shiroskeith!](http://shiroskeith.tumblr.com)
> 
> This is my first time doing an A/B/O fic, as well as a sort of mob AU combined with it! 
> 
> Please note that Otabek and Yuri have been aged up to adults in this fic.

Yuri slams the door shut and locks it with unnecessary force. “Kids,” he mutters to himself as he yanks the keys out and throws them into his tote bag.

He doesn’t exactly say that he hates his job. Ballet has been a significant part of his life and has no regret doing it since he was able to walk, but sometimes, the work gets to him. Ideally, he’d be at the rink right now, doing as many quads as he can before his legs give out. Nobody would be there to stop him or to scold him and he could be right on his way to winning another gold medal at the Grand Prix Final. He hears it’ll be in Paris this year.

Unfortunately, that dream will remain a dream. Yuri can still hear his knee click when he walks up the stairs and into the streets. Saint Petersburg is gorgeous at night, but all he sees are too-bright lights and the looming danger for men like him. It’s bad enough that he can’t pursue figure skating anymore. At his age, he’s a prime target for nasty alphas who might pick up that very, very faint scent he so desperately masks with suppressants when he’s about to go into heat. Hell, he tries to cover it up altogether. There’s no need for another set of problems in his life.

The streets are empty, save for a few passing cars and motorcycles and couples so blatantly nudging each other’s scent glands on their necks. It makes Yuri gag to see people so openly in love. All of it is just biology—an omega gets attracted to an alpha or a beta and then they bond. That’s it. Everything else, all the fluff and the bullshit about caring for one other feels like something only people in movies do. He can think about Victor and Yuuri having the time of their lives somewhere in Japan, but that’ll make him gag even more.

There’s a rumbling sound in the distance when Yuri crosses the street and finds himself just a block away from his complex. Probably just a shitty car or perhaps a thunderstorm coming through. The sky’s pretty clear out, though, and when he sees one motorcycle zoom past him and circle around to the bar several hundred feet away from him, his stomach folds uncomfortably.

He steps back and covers his ears when dozens of motorcycles pass through and make the same maneuver. They pull in to park and crowd the outside of the bar, the sound of engines dying down to be replaced with talks of buying drinks and betting on who’ll go home with an omega first. Yuri’s brain screams at his legs to start moving, and fast, but it’s too late.

One man gets off his Kawasaki, immediately turning his head in Yuri’s direction despite all the commotion and slaps on the back that’s being sent his way. They’re all speaking a language he’s not familiar with, but one word, one name, sounds very familiar.

Yuri confirms his suspicions when the man takes off his helmet and walks across the street towards him.

_ It’s him. _

The last time he saw Otabek Altin, they were in a ballet class together where none of their peers had presented yet. It’s only natural that he turned out to be an alpha; he smells strongly of pine trees and, strangely enough, lilies. That floral scent is what catches him the most, and he wonders whether or not he’s already found a mate. He wouldn’t be surprised if he has. Otabek is broad and handsome and he most definitely grew into his body. Might not be able to do a penché anymore with those legs, but he can excuse that.

“Hello again, friend,” he says in his best Russian. Still fluent as ever.

“Hi,” Yuri says stiffly with a smile a lot wider than he intends. Stepping forward, he has the urge to run his fingers through his hair and touch that warm smile of his, but he resists and slaps himself mentally for trying to make a move on an alpha who very much might be taken. “It’s been a while. What are you doing here?”

There are shouts of Otabek’s name coming from across the street. He turns around and shouts something in Kazakh, something booming and rough and Yuri can’t resist how  _ good _ it feels to hear him like that. Breathe, he tells himself. Concentrate. He’s an old friend who you haven’t seen in a very long time. Nothing more.

Turning back to Yuri, he shoves his hands in his leather jacket and shrugs. “I’m on a business trip. What about you?”

“Just walking home from work,” he says. “I teach ballet now.”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wider. “Really? You were always the best when we were in class together. I thought you were going to go on to figure skating, though?”

Yuri’s expression drops and he avoids his eyes. “I couldn’t. I...got hurt.”

Otabek is quiet for a moment. “I see. I’m sorry to hear that. Can I buy you a drink?”

As if this is the first time he’s been asked out by anyone, he grips his tote bag by its handles, twisting the fabric before he nods. “Yeah. I’d like that. But what about your friends?”

“Don’t worry about them. You and I can go somewhere else.”

“Are you sure?” Yuri tightens his grip. “I don’t want—”

“I insist,” Otabek says, and Yuri knows that statement is partially laced with that power of an alpha. Though he still considers him a friend, it’s something to look out for and Yuri can never forget that.

He nods again. “Okay.”

 

There’s a small coffee shop by Yuri’s apartment complex. Thankfully, it’s open 24 hours and the coffee is still as sweet as it is when served in the morning. Otabek takes a generous gulp of his drink of choice, a black coffee with a single packet of sugar. Yuri tries not to look so awkward when he rotates the cup in his fingers.

“I thought you were going to take me to another bar,” he says.

Otabek shakes his head and takes another drink. “Too many alphas.”

His stomach turns. Yuri instinctively touches his clothes, inhaling to confirm that he took more than the recommended amount of suppressants—

“Yura,” he says quietly, reaching forward to take Yuri’s trembling hand that can barely hold onto his coffee cup. “I’m not going to hurt you, nor am I going to let anyone else hurt you. I promise.”

Yuri can hear the genuity in his statement, the softness in his voice so different than when he convinced him to come with him. There’s still so much to talk about, so much to catch up to. He _ thinks _ he can trust him. For now. His other hand comes back to the table, stabilizing himself as he takes another drink. He probably shouldn’t be drinking this much caffeine and sugar at night, but he doesn’t care.

“You said you’re on a business trip,” he says as he tries to change the mood. “You’re not skating anymore, either?”

“No,” he says. “After I presented, my family thought I should do something else. Something that will better support the family.”

He grits his teeth. “That’s a shame. You were pretty good in ballet, from what I remember.”

Otabek laughs. It’s hearty and full and Yuri feels a little bit better being close to him like this in public. The two never got to talk much during those classes when they were kids. It was always running up to get into first position so they can do another drill of plies and tendus. Now, Yuri can figure out all those things he’s been wanting to know about him. He’s a little heated knowing that societal norms have driven him to pursue something else.

“What kind of business are you in?”

“It’s...private,” Otabek answers carefully. “We’re looking to expand and make ties here in Saint Petersburg.”

“I see. How long will you be in town?”

He shrugs. “Depends on our deals. Tell me more about what you’re doing.”

Yuri pauses for a moment to finish up his drink and tuck his hair behind his ear. Life has been quieter since leaving figure skating. He wakes up, goes to work, deals with some defiant kids, goes home. In between, he suffers and fights through his heats, and then the routine starts over again. He tries not to be so detailed when Otabek asks. Neither of them seems to be going deeper than the surface, which is fine for their reunion. Otabek keeps his eyes on him, listening to everything he says as he drinks his coffee.

“I try not to watch it since the accident,” Yuri says as he tries not to sound so bitter. “But I can’t help it. I know I can blow everyone away. None of these skaters know how to do that. It’s frustrating and I can’t fucking do anything about it.”

“You’re still doing great things,” Otabek replies. “You’re working with kids. You’re still supporting your family.”

Yuri clenches his fists and slams them down on the table. “None of that gets you a gold medal!”

The coffee shop goes silent, the baristas and few other patrons looking in their direction but quickly going back to what they were doing. Otabek slowly reaches for Yuri’s hands again, thumbs brushing over his skin. He smells so good and the gentle touch only makes him want more. Not because of hormones or any bullshit science that will force him to mate right this second, but because it’s been so long since he’s been able to talk to someone without a filter. So many people have walked away from the conversation or have told him to, really, shut up. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s talked this long.

“I don’t know what to say that will help make you feel better,” Otabek admits. “You’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry.”

Yuri looks away again, but he doesn’t let go of Otabek’s hands. “You don’t have to say sorry. I was the one who fell.”

Beat. Otabek inhales and sits back in his chair, gazing at Yuri like he’s trying to think of what he can say or do to make things less tense. It’s been a long day for Yuri, and though he doesn’t want Otabek to leave, he isn’t sure what else they can do this late besides actually drink or go home or go home and drink. Only one of these options is very appealing.

“It’s getting late,” Otabek finally says. “I can take you home and we can meet again this week, perhaps when you’re not working.”

Good choice. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Otabek.”

He smiles and Yuri’s chest beats like a drum.

 

The next few weeks feel lighter. Yuri can pirouette without feeling the throb of his knee and he can correct his students without sounding so harsh. He’s able to call Victor and Yuuri and update them on his life and he doesn’t hang up within thirty seconds. He gets lunch with Mila when she sends him a text and catches up with her, too.

The attitude change  _ can _ be attributed to the fact that he’s been hanging out with Otabek more frequently, getting food and walking about the city when he’s not working late, with nothing to do but shoot the shit. They avoid talking about work, which they’ve agreed stresses them out, along with ice skating. Even without those points of conversation, Yuri can laugh and nudge Otabek around and learn more new things about him. Otabek is into music and has sent him a variety of recommendations for whenever he wants to try freestyling in his studio. He’s told stories of him and his buddies back in Kazakhstan causing trouble and making old ladies nearly keel over with their teenage antics. It’s funny how a single person can help Yuri get out of some sort of lonely slump he’d been feeling for so long. He supposes it’s a step in the right direction if he wants to feel better about himself.

It’s another night for Yuri to hang out with Otabek. Friday nights have been good so far when it comes to consistent days to get together; Otabek is able to come over to his place and watch a movie and drink a bit if they’re in the mood. Yuri likes to (platonically) cuddle up to him and (platonically) fall asleep in his arms. If he doesn’t mind it, neither does Yuri, and Yuri definitely does not mind creeping his way into Otabek’s bubble when he’s permitted.

With several knocks on the door, Yuri swiftly dodges his cats and opens it up with a smile. Otabek’s got takeout in one hand and sodas in the other. Yuri usually puts himself on a strict diet to maintain his body and his performance in the studio, but he always saves cheat days for dates with Otabek. He can call them dates, right? Maybe he shouldn’t.

“Hey.”

“Come on in,” Yuri says, grabbing the food and drinks from him and taking them to the living room, shooing his Tonkinese away from the coffee table. By the time he turns back, Otabek’s got his boots off and petting Potya, who’s taken a great liking to him since returning. “If you keep spoiling him like that, he’s never going to leave you alone.”

“Just like how I spoil you?”

Yuri blushes. “You don’t spoil me. You’re just a very nice friend who likes to buy me things once in a while.”

“I like that description.”

Yuri does, too. The night is spent stuffing their mouths with junk food while watching an action movie with way too many explosions and cheesy one-liners. He’s more at home when Otabek is around. They can make fun of the macho male lead and the bad music in the background and which actors could probably pull off a triple axel. With his belly full of sugary soda and fries, he feels warmer moving closer to Otabek, wrapping his arms around him as the movie continues.

His scent gland is so close. If Yuri could just nudge his head up and rub it gently, feel even closer to him…

He shouldn’t. 

Otabek is only supposed to be here for a certain period of time. It’s more than clear that he doesn’t have a mate, but that doesn’t mean Yuri is able to simply take things to the next level. The two don’t talk about everything under the sun. Some secrets have yet to be said; they haven’t spoken about work or their life apart in great detail and there’s always that fear that maybe, maybe Otabek is after someone else. Yuri hopes that isn’t the case.

Leaning in further into Otabek’s side, he suddenly winces. Hard.

Yuri pulls back as Otabek tries to hide whatever is beneath his shirt, avoiding touching the area. “What the fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Otabek strains as he moves slowly. “Just a little sore from work today.”

“A little?” Yuri smacks Otabek’s arm out of the way and shamelessly lifts up his shirt, ignoring how incredibly defined his muscles are and instead staring at the massive bruise coloring a large part of his waist and hip. On top of that, he also spots a variety of angry scars and some fresh, red cuts about his skin.

Otabek pushes Yuri away with some force to get him to the other side of the couch, bringing his shirt back down and folding his arms. He looks away.

A variety of emotions and questions sweep through Yuri’s head. He’s frozen on his end of the couch, staring at Otabek like he’ll give him an answer if he says nothing. He knows that’s not going to work.

“Beka,” he chokes, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he replies. There’s a hardness in his voice that keeps Yuri in place instead of coming to soothe him. “I told you, I’m sore from work.”

“Sore? What the fuck kind of work are you doing that gets you hurt like that?”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about work.”

“Fuck that!” He wills himself to come closer, staring at Otabek and hoping he’ll look back at him, desperate for an answer. “What is going on?”

“I can’t tell you!”

Otabek’s voice resonates throughout the living room and throughout the entire apartment. The sound of the movie is reduced to background noise as Yuri looks wide-eyed at him, tears threatening to spill in response to all the worry and confusion and frustration over what Otabek does when he isn’t with him. Giving up on eye contact, Yuri slowly turns on the couch, turning his attention to Tonkinese who hopped his way up to his lap. He’s comforting this way.

“I thought we were friends,” Yuri says softly.

“Don’t,” Otabek replies with that same hardness that punches Yuri in the gut upon hearing it. He stands and gets his boots on as hastily as possible, then grabs his jacket hanging by the door. “I have to go.”

Yuri doesn’t argue when he hears the door slam behind him. He flinches, holding his cat closer to him as he tries to hide his sniffling and shaking.

 

Two weeks pass. Yuri goes back to his old routine. Snapping at his students, avoiding calls from Mila and Victor, doing nothing but go to work and go back home and think about what could have been. It all felt stupid to feel hopeful and stupider to think that Otabek would turn things around in his life. Otabek was probably going to leave soon after his work. Whatever the fuck his work consisted of. Being beaten to a pulp or beating others to a pulp, he doesn’t know. He should have known.

It’s another late night of teenagers who think they can simply do a pas de chat in one try and listening to banter about who might be an omega if their classmates haven’t presented yet. Before class is over, he informs them all about their break next week due to “personal matters.” Everyone in the room knows it’s code for heat, which is either taken seriously by some or stupidly by others. 

“Oooh, Mr. Plisetsky’s going to be on  _ vacation _ next week!”

“Shut up! What if he doesn’t have a mate?”

“Ugh. Who would want to be his mate?”

“Out!” Yuri shouts.

The students all file out, muttering more false rumors amongst each other and snickering about whatever jokes they have concerning him. Despite brushing off all the remarks he hears, it’s still a degree of painful and he hopes that their parents knock some sense into them. Or not. It’s probably their fault they treat him like shit sometimes.

Whatever the case, Yuri gets his things together and turns out the lights of his studio, making sure that everything is all cleaned up and turned off for the next week. It’ll be hell, but after losing out on his dreams and one of his only friends, his heat will be just another week in the life.

There are people still lingering outside of the studio when he locks up, but these people look a lot taller and more muscular than the teenagers he has in his classes. Their voices are deep, speaking in a language that sounds vaguely familiar, but it isn’t Russian.

“Oy, studio’s closed,” Yuri tells them. “Come back in a week.”

“We’re not here for ballet,” one of the men reply in broken Russian. “We’re here for you.”

Yuri’s body instantly switches to panic mode. Three men are blocking the only exit from his studio to the street. He could go back inside and lock the door, but he can spot one of the other men sporting a gun on his hip. Logic tells him that they’re all armed and very dangerous. One whiff and he can tell right away. All alphas.

He could take all the suppressants available in the world and an alpha could still sniff him out. His body size might be a giveaway, but even so, he can’t get away from every alpha. There’s some pepper spray and a knife in his tote bag. The police can chalk this all up to self-defense. Other omegas have done it before. Tonight, he’s not going to be taking any more shit. He could give up right here and just have all three of them do whatever they want with him, or he can fight. Everyone, especially his grandfather, knew that he wasn’t one to give up.

The three all start speaking in that familiar language again as they approach Yuri, backing him towards the wall of the dead end. Every murmur and every snarl sends a wave of fear and adrenaline in his system. He slowly, slowly slips off one handle of his bag, trying to make it look like it’s falling naturally off his shoulder with subtle shrugs.

At the blink of an eye, one of the men grabs him by that shoulder and shoves him hard into the wall, snarling louder and baring his teeth as he leans toward Yuri and pins him there.

“Don’t try anything,” he warns. “You can’t escape.”

Yuri’s shoulder digs into the brick wall behind him, more fear settling in as the other two crowd around him. His last option is to book it, to try and break through this impenetrable wall of alphas and run as fast as he can to safety. He can’t go home or find someone he knows without endangering them, either. The police station is a few blocks away. He could rely on them, right?

The middle alpha’s hands grab Yuri’s hips harshly and before Yuri can try to break free, he hears another voice shout at the end of the alley.

All three whip their heads around to look at the fourth man, stomping down the stairs and growling what sounds like obscenities to them in the other language. Yuri knows that voice.

He knows that voice very well.

When one man talks back to Otabek, he punches him in the face, hard enough to knock him to the ground and cry in pain. The others don’t back down. Yuri stands there in complete awe and almost-darkness as he watches Otabek begin to throw punches and receive some himself. The alley is too narrow for Yuri to simply dodge the men, but even if it wasn’t, Yuri couldn’t just leave the sight of Otabek tearing through the alphas who were ready to attack him. After another period of not seeing him, this is how he’s greeted once more.

The last alpha falls, nearly knocked out and rolling on the ground. Otabek says something in Kazakh and steps forward to take Yuri’s hand. It’s difficult to make out his expression, but Yuri can only imagine softness and sincerity when his other hand reaches his cheek.

“I promised you. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

Completely forgetting about what happened in his apartment, Yuri bursts into tears and throws his arms around Otabek, holding him tightly and ignoring the slight pain that came with getting his shoulder pinned against the wall.

“You idiot,” he chokes, “You need to tell me everything. I need to know.”

Otabek puts his hand on Yuri’s back and grabs onto his shirt, keeping him close as if he’s going to shield him from any more alphas who are going to try and harm him.

“I will, Yura. I will.”

 

There are a number of fresh scratches on Otabek’s body, plus a few spots he knows will form nasty bruises. For their sake, Yuri does his best to keep himself calm and collected, which is a thousand times more difficult when he knows his heat is on the horizon and he just so happens to have a shirtless alpha sitting on his living room couch. With Potya meowing for his attention, Yuri shoos his cats away as he returns with a bowl of hot water from the kitchen and a towel from the bathroom. Neither of them has said anything since getting to Yuri’s apartment, but Yuri knows Otabek will speak when he’s able to.

He grunts as Yuri wipes away the blood from his arms and his back. “I was fifteen when they recruited me, after I was told I couldn’t pursue a career in ice skating. It wasn’t anything big at first. Just pickpocketing rich people and splitting the loot. But then business got bigger. A lot bigger.”

Yuri listens carefully as he stands between his legs cleans up Otabek. He swallows when he reaches his chest, a hand on his shoulder as he pats away at the blood. “Is that why you’re back in Russia?”

He nods, eyes on Yuri as he switches from the hot towel to antiseptic and bandages. “Drugs. I’ve tried it once and I thought I was going to lose my mind. I don’t understand why people use it, but some people love it. We’re supposed to make a connection here and bring some of our product to the city.”

“And?”

“And...we have a few offers. We’re still trying to figure out the best way to import them without getting caught. Some of our members…” he stops and winces, then continues, “some of our members have suggested using omegas as mules.”

That’s what makes Yuri freeze up. He’s about to tape some bandage over the slash on his chest, just under his collarbone, but he doesn’t finish when he realizes that those alphas in the alley were probably going to kidnap him for that very reason. He has so many more questions for Otabek—why he chose to do this, how he’s able to stay under the radar of the police. Everything he’s doing is probably illegal and then some.

“So were those men...” Yuri breathes.

Otabek takes Yuri’s hand and nods, pressing it to his chest. “They’re with me. I told them that nobody in our business can touch you, but some people don’t listen.”

“I,” Yuri starts, then lets go to finish taping the bandage over the cut, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Otabek says, wrapping Yuri in his arms and making him cling to him like he wants to be attached to his scent even more. “They told me not to approach you that night across the bar. But I couldn’t help it. I needed to see you again. And I’m happy that I did. You’re doing so well for yourself, Yura. And…”

Yuri starts to toy with his hair. He’s starting to feel warm but he’s ignoring that sensation now. “And?”

Otabek peeks up from Yuri’s hold, speaking honestly. “You’ve grown up to be so beautiful.”

Yuri’s hormones hit overdrive at the compliment. He gasps, shakes in Otabek’s hands, attempting to say something back but nothing is coming out. Otabek pulls Yuri onto his lap, keeping him close as his hands rest comfortably around his waist.

“Beka,” Yuri murmurs as he tries to will himself away from Otabek. “I—”

“I know,” he says. “I can smell it, and it’s taking so much for me not to have you _right_ _now_.”

The growl in Otabek’s voice sends Yuri into an even deeper frenzy, leaning closer to inhale his scent to try and calm him down. “It’s going to start early if you keep this up.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t keep my hands off you, for keeping everything a secret—”

“I don’t care. Just kiss me, Beka.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Otabek holds Yuri by the cheeks when he goes in for the kiss, Yuri’s chest beating rapidly like he’s running a marathon and so close to grabbing him at the finish line. He kisses back eagerly, falling into place like he belongs on Otabek’s lap. It’s warm and overwhelming and on the border of too much, but Yuri can’t help himself. Not when he’s spent years wallowing in misery and what-ifs. Otabek could be an alien ruler with plans to take over the world and it wouldn’t make a difference. He’s more than a friend, and Yuri likes that very much.

Otabek growls between kisses, as rough and primal as he was when he fought off those alphas from Yuri. Yuri has to pull away though, breathing heavily and threading his hands in his hair.

“You’re still hurt,” he pants. “I don’t—”

“I’m fine,” Otabek murmurs against his lips, forehead pressed to his. “You can ice me later. I want you  _ now _ , Yura. Can I?”

Some of that worry still sits in the front of his head, but he can’t think about that when Otabek is baring his teeth and holding his waist tighter like he’s ready to carry him somewhere else. Almost immediately, he answers, “Yes. Of course you can. I need you.”

In an instant, Otabek lifts Yuri by the thighs and carries him to the bedroom once he’s directed. Yuri’s already set up his bed for his heat, a queen-size mattress surrounded by fluffy pillows and blankets with only Otabek’s scent missing. There are towels on his nightstand and a few toys for himself, but he likely won’t be using those for the next few days. Maybe.

Otabek lays Yuri down with a small thump, crawling over him and kissing him again, this time with more heat and desire to that makes Yuri want to rip off all his clothes right this instant. He almost does, too, with how much pressure Otabek digs into his hips, rolling his own against him and feeling his cock harden over his jeans. Yuri can feel himself getting soaked already, breath going labored and his skin becoming much too hot.

“Beka,” he strains.

“I’m here,” Otabek whispers, tugging Yuri’s shirt off and sliding down his leggings. “I’m here.”

He can’t help but blush once his clothes are off. No other alpha has ever seen him naked but here he is now, at last, baring himself for the one he can’t get enough of. With his body practically moving on its own, Yuri spreads his legs and presents himself, wide open and hard and dripping between his legs. Otabek looks feral at this point, tearing off the rest of his clothes and shoving himself inside Yuri once he takes a very tight hold of his hips.

Yuri screams in both pain and pleasure. It was a smart decision to soundproof his apartment, since all he wants to do now is moan and say Otabek’s name again and again with each rough thrust inside him. He holds onto his shoulders, nails scratching down his already-wounded back as his body is lit completely on fire. Otabek fills him so perfectly, makes him so full and wanted and needy. The bed creaks and he doesn’t know if he can last this long, already so close to his first orgasm.

“Beka,” he moans up to the ceiling, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

“Come,” he commands as he fucks him even harder and starts stroking Yuri’s cock quickly. “Come for me.”

It only takes one hard thrust to his prostate and Otabek’s hand on his cock to make him come, spilling all over his chest and stomach as he wraps his legs tightly around Otabek’s waist. He clings to the sheets and yells through his orgasm, his entire body on fire and craving for more.

As he calms down and finds his breath, Otabek continues to fuck him, moving faster and faster before straining and slamming his hips inside him, filling him up with every last drop of his release. He groans, as well, right into Yuri’s ear and so closely that he might be able to get hard from the sound alone. Yuri shudders as he comes inside him, whimpering and wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Fuck,” Otabek groans, pulling out and grabbing a towel from the nightstand to clean up between their legs. “You’re mine, Yura. All mine.”

Yuri snorts, shifting with a tinge of pain running up his sides when his legs drop to the bed. “You didn’t give me your knot.”

“Not yet.” He tosses the soiled towel aside and leans forward, kissing Yuri slower and gentler than earlier. Now that they’ve gotten a little stress out of the way, Yuri can relax for a little bit before another wave hits him and he’ll want to be fucked again.

Yuri pulls away from the kiss with a contented sigh, running his fingers through his hair with a smile. “Does that mean you’ll give it to me tonight?”

“It’s possible.” He kisses him again, shifting to kiss his neck and scent gland. “Are you sure?”

“You—” his breath catches, Otabek nuzzling his scent gland but not quite sinking his teeth down on it, “Fuck. Of course I’m sure. I want you and only you.”

“Even after everything I’ve told you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a dangerous life.”

“I don’t care—” Yuri bites his lip to hide a moan, feeling himself become wet again between his legs, “it’s better than the life I have now.”

“Yura—”

“Just fuck me already!”

He spreads his legs again and nudges his hips up towards Otabek, eyes wide and desperate to ease the pain of his heat flaring up again.

 

Time gets blurry when Yuri spends most of it in bed and craving for Otabek. In the short breaks they have in between,  _ if _ they have a break, he’s polite. Providing water and snacks, cleaning up every mess and offering to change the sheets when it feels uncomfortable. Yuri doesn’t know how long it’s been since Otabek saved him from his...co-workers, for lack of a better word. The only thing on his agenda has been fucking and sleeping and drinking some water so he doesn’t totally lose his mind during his heat. It’s late at night again and Yuri turns in bed, snuggled up in pillows and a warm blanket and the feel of Otabek’s body in his arms as he speaks on the phone.

He’s not sure what he’s saying, but he’s calm and direct, unlike all the passionate yelling he’s witnessed time and again. If anything, it’s probably about the business. When they have a chance to talk, Yuri listens to all the stories, all the times he’s cheated death and all the people who have tried to come after him. It’s like he’s living through an action movie, but happy endings aren’t for everyone, even the ones who try to go back down the straight path. For Otabek, that ending remains unknown, but Yuri doesn’t want to think ahead about what it would mean to be his mate. He has yet to bond with him, although at this point, it’s inevitable.

Otabek hangs up and sets his phone aside after a goodbye, then lies back down and settles in the sea of sheets and pillows. They’re both naked and warm from sex, a state Yuri has come to enjoy very much so instead of getting through his heat alone. Otabek’s injuries have begun to heal, as well, leaving faded marks and scratches for Yuri to graze over when he moves impossibly closer to him.

“Who was that?” Yuri asks.

“My boss,” Otabek says. Yuri’s throat goes dry but he continues, “I told him I found an omega who needed my ‘help.’ He said to take all the time I needed because they closed a deal with a group here.”

“Congratulations.” He pauses, then frowns. “Does that mean you’ll have to leave soon?”

Otabek smiles and pecks his lips. “No. They’d want me to stay here because I’m one of the few members who speak Russian fluently.”

“So what does that mean for me?”

Yuri asks the question casually, but there’s a lot of weight in each word. Otabek surely can’t have a family while being in an underground business, right? It’s too dangerous. People can try to come after Yuri, kidnap him and hold him hostage. The thing is, he doesn’t think it’s the heat talking when he thinks that he’ll be okay with it. Life has always been risky for him. It’s what cost him his dream and everything that went with it. This is one more risk he’s willing to take, no matter what Otabek says.

“We’ll have to be careful about it,” Otabek says. “I can hire some people to protect you while I’m working.”

“I don’t need bodyguards,” he pouts.

“Would you like to tell that to the three alphas who tried to attack you last week?”

Yuri shuts up and flips in bed, turning away from him in a huff. At least he knows he’s been at home for quite some time and that he’ll have to return to work soon. “Fine. Do what you need to. As long as I’m with you.”

Otabek gently squeezes his hip and hovers over him to kiss his neck, lips close to the scent gland he has yet to bite down on. At some point after the first night, the two have decided to save it for when his heat is nearly over, which would be the perfect end to the most manageable heat he’s had to date. Yuri shudders as his lips graze over it, kissing it with such subtlety he could yell at him to do it now but he won’t. Patience, Yuri, he tells himself.

“I will always be with you,” Otabek whispers in his ear. He squeezes his hip harder and he growls, “ _ Always _ .”

In the days that have gone by, Yuri has let Otabek run wild with his instincts. He’s an alpha, after all, and with that comes with all the roughness and possessiveness that makes Yuri quiver in the best way. With one last need to be fucked, he places his hand over Otabek’s on his hip, his breath shaky and his entrance growing wet again.

“Alpha,” Yuri gasps after Otabek licks his scent gland, “I’m yours. Please. I want your knot.”

The growl Otabek makes is enough for Yuri to become rock hard again, willingly relaxing so that he can be turned over and Otabek can climb on top of him and kiss him hard. His teeth are close to biting into the skin of Yuri’s lips, sharp and needy and ready to officially make him his mate. Yuri kisses back with the same amount of romantic fury that’s been stirring in him for the longest time. All he ever wanted was a friend. Now he and his mate can be the same person. It doesn’t get any better than that.

“Turn around and bend over,” Otabek demands. “You’re going to be mine.”

With no time wasted, Yuri submits and flips in bed while Otabek rises up to view the perfection that is Yuri’s ass, raised up high before him to give him absolute control of whatever he wants to do with it. Knowing how hard Otabek can fuck him, Yuri clutches his sheets, pressing one cheek on the mattress as he breathes steadily before anything happens.

He doesn’t expect Otabek’s tongue to touch him before his cock. Yuri moans as his ass is licked like candy, like it’s the best thing Otabek has ever tasted. More slick coats Yuri’s entrance and his body lights up with all his nerves shocking his muscles. Otabek grabs his ass and spreads him wider, fully exposing him and nipping the wet skin between kisses. He’s practically dripping by the time Otabek sits up in bed again, whining for his knot as if his life depended on it.

The head of Otabek’s cock pushes against his wet entrance, teasing. Yuri knows he’s holding back, only saving his energy to wreck him to pieces once he begs properly.

“Please Alpha, oh god please.  _ Fuck me _ .  _ Fuck me! _ ”

He shouts into the sheets when Otabek plunges his cock in full inside him. They’re a perfect match. Yuri clenches around him beautifully and slicks up like he’ll never stop being in heat. Otabek grabs his hips again and starts to pound his ass mercilessly, moving at a pace that only quickens after every slap of skin against skin.

“Perfect omega hole,” Otabek grunts. Yuri tightens up shamelessly at the impulsive words. “All mine.”

Yuri’s own words are lost with every thrust. All that’s on his mind now is Otabek’s cock, his knot so close to swelling inside him so he can come with no restraint. Between moans and cries, Otabek’s name is incoherent on Yuri’s tongue.

“You like it, don’t you?” Otabek continues, moving so hard and so deeply it’s borderline painful, “You like your ass being used as a fuck toy? You want me to breed you?”

Yuri doesn’t answer. Just moans. Otabek hits his prostate and they get louder once more, tightening up and reaching down to stroke his own cock when he starts to feel something balloon inside him. Over and over, Otabek hits that sweet spot, and in one more hard thrust, Yuri comes all over the sheets, trembling vigorously through his orgasm as Otabek knots inside him and pumps his own release in thick, long bursts. His growls compete with Yuri’s moans, so loud and so powerful that without the soundproof barriers, everyone in this building will know who Yuri belongs to.

With Otabek still latched onto him, he straightens out to lie flat on the bed, uncaring about the mess that will coat his belly when it hits the sheets. He shudders at each pump of come, Otabek straddling his hips and kissing up his spine, right up until he reaches his scent gland to finally, finally bite down to complete the mating ritual.

A different kind of ecstasy courses through Yuri’s blood. It’s not like an orgasm that’s strong in a few seconds then goes away. No, it’s an overflowing sensation that’s more...joyful. He imagines days in the future with just the two of them, back on the ice without a care in the world, laughing over homemade piroshkis while their own little pups beg to have a taste while they’re still hot. It’s domestic and sweet and though these thoughts might be difficult to turn into reality, it’s more than obvious that he’s made the right choice in choosing a mate.

“I love you,” Otabek whispers after releasing his skin to kiss his neck. Yuri props himself on his arms to turn and kiss him properly, returning the sentiment when he pulls away.

The knot deflates and he pulls out of Yuri, careful not to make even more of a mess given all the fluid. When the two are all cleaned up once more and Otabek returns to bed, Yuri gets a hold of Otabek’s scent gland as well, biting down as Otabek holds him close and groans. Nobody can touch either of them now, and if any alpha attempts to approach Yuri, Otabek will surely be there to keep watch.

Neither of them talk more about their uncertain future. That’s a problem they’ll tackle as they go. Yuri’s forever grateful for his mate to finally return, to finally open up the possibility of a more exciting, more invigorating life beyond what he has now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, feedback and piroshkis are greatly appreciated. <3
> 
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